


Dissociation

by DrakonNightengale



Category: Eddsworld - All Media Types
Genre: Depression, Dissociation, Gen, Self Harm, vent fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-19
Updated: 2019-08-19
Packaged: 2020-09-07 12:37:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20309632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DrakonNightengale/pseuds/DrakonNightengale
Summary: Dissociation is any of a wide array of experiences from mild detachment from immediate surroundings to more severe detachment from physical and emotional experiences. The major characteristic of all dissociative phenomena involves a detachment from reality, rather than a loss of reality as in psychosis.Other symptoms sometimes found along with dissociation in victims of traumatic abuse (often referred to as "sequelae to abuse") include anxiety, PTSD, low self-esteem, somatization, depression, chronic pain, interpersonal dysfunction, substance abuse, self-harm and suicidal ideation or actions.





	Dissociation

**Author's Note:**

> Some more vent fic. Featuring, dissociation and self harm. Warning, there's no happy or satisfying ending to this. 
> 
> I don't pretend to be an expert on dissociation nor have I received treatment for it. Keep that in mind

Drip. Drip. Drip.

Blood seeped from my arm into the tub, but I could not feel it.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

Crimson splashed into the pink waters, tainting it further and darkening it.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

Depression. Apathy. Numbness. Void.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

There should have been pain, searing and throbbing.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

Nothing.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

I press the blade further.

Dripdrip. Dripdrip. Dripdrip.

Nothing still.

Dripdrip. Dripdrip. Dripdrip.

I wanted to feel something.

Dripdrip. Dripdrip. Dripdrip.

I needed to feel something.

Dripdrip. Dripdrip. Dripdr-

…

Knock. Knock.

“Hey, are you almost done?” The serenity was broken.  
Dripdrip. Dripdri-

Knock. Knock. Knock. 

“Thomas, come on. Open the door. Or respond. Have you collapsed in a drunken stupor again?”

Dripdri-

Knockknockknock.

“Thomas!”

Drip-

“Turn off the tap at least, the dripping is driving me crazy out here!”

Splash.

“Tom?”

The bubbles seemed so serene.

Something was murmured but the serenity stayed.

I can’t feel.

I can’t breath.

The water gets darker.

A muffled sound.

Then the peace is broken.

The world becomes bright suddenly, and the tub is no longer there.

“Tom!”

Why is the tub gone?

“Thomas!”

My arm looks so weird.

“Edd! Get the car ready!”

There’s a flash of white.

“Tom, Tom, look at me.”

Smack.

“Thomas!”

The red from my arm is gone.

“Faen!”

What happened to the water.

“Tord, what’s going on?”

What is the static?

“Tom’s unresponsive, he cut himself.”

Where’s the bathroom?

Slam.

Maybe I should close my eyes.

“Tom, come on, look at me.”

I just want to sleep.

…

…

…

Beep. Beep. Beep.

I wake up. Groggily I go to rub at my eyes, wincing at the sharp pain coming from my right arm. 

“What the-”

“You’re awake finally.” Came a sharp interruption.

I turn towards the voice, and see Tord standing there, covered in water and dried blood, looking right pissed. There’s beeping coming from nearby and the room was overwhelmingly bright.

“Uh…” 

“Look. Next time you want to off yourself, let’s not.”

“What?”

He stared at me, before bringing his hand to his face in frustration, then pointed to my bandaged arm. 

“I found you in the bathtub, bleeding out, with deep lacerations and unresponsive. You’re in the hospital.”

“I am?” This got me a look that said I was the most idiotic thing Tord had ever seen.

“Edd’s talking to the nurses right now. Matt’s still at home.”

“Can we go back to what happened?”

“I’d love to know, fill me in, because you were going to drown if I didn’t break down the bathroom door. What happened Tom? Why did you do that?”

“I… I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Right. Okay. I found you dying, in our bathroom.”

“I was?”

“Yes.”

“Oh…”

Tord’s face lost the hostility, instead he sat down and ran a hand through his hair.

“Are you going to be okay, Thomas?”

“Uh… Yes?”

“Do you recall nothing?”

“Kind of? It’s… Not really? I heard sounds, but I don’t know?”

“Does this happen often?” He folded his hands over his lap and looked down in thought.

“Yes?” I didn’t know why he was being like this. It wasn’t normal, and I didn’t like it.

Someone came into the room, and Edd followed behind. 

“Tom, you’re awake!” He exclaimed, coming over to check in on me.

“Yeah, hey Edd.” It felt weird, having them both seem so concerned. I don’t even recall sleeping.

“Feeling alright?”

“My arm hurts.” The longer I was awake, the more I was in pain. To the point where I was starting to wince.

The nurse turned to my friends.

“We’ll keep him for a few days to monitor him, feel free to come back tomorrow.”

Both of them looked apprehensive, but Edd waved, giving a small smile as he left. Tord frowned and stared at me, before following, no verbal goodbyes were exchanged.

The nurse asked me how I felt, asked me if I was okay, if I felt like hurting myself again. It annoyed me, and I went along, answering her questions until she gave me some pain medicine and some sleeping pills. I was happy to go to sleep.

…

After I had recovered a bit more, I was made to see a psychiatrist, who told me I was likely dissociating during the event, and turned to self harm because of the physical disconnect from my body.

I was given pills to take, and a few days later, released with mandatory therapy. During my stay, no one came to see me.

Going home, everyone walked on eggshells. No one spoke. Edd and Matt had picked me up.

It felt weird.

That night, I ate alone in my room, noticing someone had gone through my things and taken anything I could harm myself.

A knock occured, and I turned to it. It took me a moment to call out.

“Yeah?”

The door opened and Tord was standing there, looking relieved.

“You okay?”

“Those are the first words I’ve heard any of you say to me.” I drawled out in annoyance.

“Tom, you nearly died. You nearly killed yourself.” He responded, sounding fed up.

“I’m not fine china.” Snapping back I stood up.

“You damn well felt like it!”

The realization hit me, six days after I last saw him. Tord was the one who found me, and saved my life. Questions of why floated in my head, apologies and even words of gratitude. But my idiot brain decided on something completely unrelated.

“You could have changed out of wearing my blood before I woke up in the hospital.”

Tord gave a slow blink, then a sigh.

“I mean, well… Sorry. I guess. I’m… I don’t know what happened honestly. Didn’t expect to uh do that-”

“I know. You looked like a corpse. Other than your breathing, I thought you were. You were limp in my arms, and you wouldn’t respond to anything. After you coughed up the water, you just stayed there. I honestly didn’t know what to do. I got told off for slapping you in an attempt to get you to respond.” He gave his horns a small tug as he ran a hand through his hair. “Then you were taken in, and I don’t even know if you blinked. Edd was freaking out, we hadn’t even told Matt.”

“Sounds… bad.”

“It was. Worst part of it was thinking I might have been too late.”

“Hey… Don’t blame yourself, I just… Something happened.”

“I know.”

“You couldn’t prevent it.”

“I know.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“I know, but I still was scared. I am scared. It’s one thing to have a suicidal friend, another for it to just be… a reaction and not purposeful.”

“I’m getting help.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“You keep repeating the same words, it’s kind of creepy.”

“Are you going to be okay?” He flinched and looked away.

“Hopefully.” I responded, the entire conversation feeling awkward.

“Can I come in?”

“You now ask? Go ahead.” I waved my arm to give permission, the bandages off to air out the stitches.

He came over and sat on the end of the bed staring forward. 

“Hey, Thomas?”

“Yeah?” I drew out my response, confused and feeling more awkward at how, not Tord this felt.

“Glad you’re not dead.”

“Thanks, me too.”

“Well, anything I should watch out for, other than you in the bathtub for five hours?”

“I was in it for five hours?”

“I started counting.”

“Why?”

“I needed to use the toilet.”

“Did you?”

“Did I what?”

“Use the toilet?” I watched as Tord made a choking sound.

“I forgot until leaving the hospital. Something more pressing came up. What a weird thing to focus on in this conversation.”

“Well, it’s a depressing conversation. Awkward too.”

“I can’t help that the only conversational piece to pick happens to be awkward.”

“Yeah well, don’t you have hentai to jack it to?”

He visibly gagged and glared at me. “Tom, that’s disgusting, don’t ever utter those words to me. I don’t need you talking about my sex life.” He sighed. “You want me to leave then?”

“A bit tired.”

“Right. Well. Take care. Sleep.”

“Okay awkward Norwegian. Bye.”

Tord left, giving me a glance over, before closing the door.

The terrifying event was over, and hopefully that would be the worst of it.

Now it would be time to focus on recovery.

**Author's Note:**

> I have Severe Depression and PTSD. I've literally lost time and been unaware/unable to connect to my body. 
> 
> One time I laid in bed for 48 hours and wasn't even aware of the passage of time, I couldn't feel my body, and was unaware of my hunger or even feelings.
> 
> It can be terrifying to dissociate and not recall a thing, especially suddenly and for no reason. In my case I'm not aware until I've realized the time I've lost is gone.
> 
> This fic is to reflect my own feelings and the feelings of those around me when I am in that state.
> 
> Tom could feel nothing physically, and was aware of things that happened at almost a delay.
> 
> The dripping of water, and the knocking were the only things he registered properly.
> 
> The splash was his arm hitting the water, and soon after Tom sank in.
> 
> The murmuring was Tord threatening to break the door.
> 
> The sound was him breaking the door frame to get in.
> 
> Tord's reaction is one I've noticed a lot of people want to use for unresponsive people. A slap to the face, which can create a shock to the body by popular belief. In this case, Tom couldn't feel the pain.
> 
> As usual, this is a vent fic. 
> 
> Leave a Kudos, let me know what you think.
> 
> If you want to see more follow me on Tumblr @drake-the-incubus


End file.
